I’m Kayla. I test stuff all the time, but this one isn’t some gadget. This was my life for a while. It still is, in a way. I’ll keep it plain. I’ll keep it honest. Real examples. Real feelings. No fluff.
When the Light Hit at 2 a.m.
The first clue was the glow. That tiny phone light under the covers at 2 a.m. I woke up to his shoulders hunched and his face tight. He’d lock the screen fast, like it burned him. Then there were long “showers” and the Bluetooth speaker kept pairing in the bathroom. We fought over small stuff, but the big thing sat there, quiet and loud at once.
I later found comfort seeing how another partner walked through the same early warning signs in this candid account of dating a sex addict.
One night, I saw “VideoHost” charges on the bank app. Not huge. But sneaky. I asked. He said, “It’s nothing.” It wasn’t nothing. I’m not dumb. I felt my gut drop.
How It Felt (And Yes, It Messed With My Head)
I felt small. I wondered if I was boring or plain. I wanted to compete with pixels. Which… sounds silly and also not silly at all. I got mad. Then I got sad. Then I got mad again. I said sharp things I wish I hadn’t. He shut down. I shut down too. If you’d rather see the science-y side of things, this concise overview of porn addiction breaks down how the cycle starts and why it sticks.
You know what? Shame didn’t help either of us. It just made him hide more.
(If you need a longer play-by-play of what living with a boyfriend hooked on porn can look like, this raw piece helped me feel seen: My boyfriend is addicted to porn—what I lived, what helped, what hurt.)
Things We Tried That Flopped First
- I took his phone at night. He used his work laptop.
- I set iPhone Screen Time with a passcode. He guessed it. Twice.
- I blocked “adult websites.” He switched to the DuckDuckGo app and weird keywords.
- We tried “just stop.” That lasted three days. Then he relapsed and lied about it, and I cried in the car at Target.
Not my best week.
Tools We Actually Used (And What Happened)
I test tools for a living, so I went full nerd. Not all of this was perfect. Some of it helped.
- Covenant Eyes (accountability software)
- What worked: He picked a friend (not me) to get reports. That took me out of the cop role. The reports were simple, and it did catch stuff.
- What didn’t: It lagged sometimes. False flags on random sites. If someone wants to cheat it, they can find a way. Cost wasn’t tiny.
- Fortify (recovery app)
- What worked: Daily check-ins and short lessons. The streak counter mattered to him. He liked the simple tracking.
- What didn’t: Some videos felt cheesy to me. He said the daily pings got naggy when he was stressed.
- Freedom app (site blocker across devices)
- What worked: Good for runs in the evening when he felt twitchy. We set block sessions from 10 p.m. to 7 a.m.
- What didn’t: If he truly wanted out, he could uninstall. It’s a speed bump, not a locked door.
- iPhone Screen Time + Android Digital Wellbeing
- What worked: Blocking private browsing helped. We also blocked the app stores at night. Simple, not fancy.
- What didn’t: He’d find new search terms. The internet is… creative.
- Therapy (we used Regain and then found a local CBT therapist)
- What worked: A real space to say the ugly stuff without yelling. The CBT guy gave him tools for urges, like urge surfing and five-minute delays.
- What didn’t: Our first therapist brushed it off like “boys will be boys.” Hard pass. It took two tries to find a fit. It also cost money.
- A boring paper plan (this weirdly helped)
- Our rules: No porn. No fishing for spicy stuff on social feeds. If he slips, tell me within 24 hours. No bathroom phone after 10 p.m. If he gets hit by a wave, text his buddy first, not me.
- Triggers we wrote down: stress after late sales calls, boredom after lunch, and when he felt rejected.
- Small life tweaks
- A basket for phones at 10:30 p.m. Not cute, but it worked.
- A smart plug on the Wi-Fi to kill it at night, then back on at 6 a.m. Annoying when I wanted to stream, but we adjusted.
- Sunday hikes. Replace the scroll with sun and sore calves.
A Real Slip (Because It Happens)
On day 19 he slipped. Bad day at work. Sat in the car, watched stuff on data. He came in pale and told me. I cried. He cried. It felt like square one. But we didn’t throw out the whole plan. He texted his buddy. We went for a slow walk. He deleted Reddit and some sketchy apps. Then we ate tacos and went to bed early. The next morning wasn’t magic, but it was lighter.
What I Learned About Me (Which I Didn’t Expect)
I didn’t want to be his warden. That killed trust too. I needed boundaries for me:
- Honesty in 24 hours, or we pause intimacy.
- If I start to spiral, I call my sister or go to the gym. I’m not his therapist.
- If he lies three times in a row, I leave. Not a threat. A promise to myself.
Reading about being a codependent of a sex addict slapped me awake and showed me why those boundaries mattered.
Having that written down made me feel less shaky.
Four Months Later: Is It Better?
Better, yes. Perfect, no. He’s had two slips. He told me both times. We celebrated small wins: a month clean, a tough week with no slip, date night with our phones off. Intimacy felt less like a test. More like us, you know?
I still check in with myself. Do I feel safe? Do I feel heard? Most days, yes.
Would I Tell You To Stay?
Tricky. If your person takes ownership, gets support, and tells the truth even when it stings—there’s a path. If they gaslight you, hide stuff, or mock your pain—please leave. You don’t need permission. You don’t need to burn out to prove you tried.
Side note: some readers have asked me whether stepping away and building their own independent, even transactional, online life is an option—something that offers financial security and clearer boundaries while they sort out the relationship mess. If that curiosity has crossed your mind, a helpful primer is Can I be an online sugar baby? which spells out what an online arrangement really entails, walks through safety checklists, income expectations, and emotional pros and cons so you can decide if it fits your goals before jumping in blindly. Conversely, if you're seeing signs that your partner might be sliding from late-night videos into arranging real-world hookups, taking three minutes to study the local-classifieds scene in Backpage Frisco can arm you with a clear picture of how these ads are worded, what services are really being offered, and the legal and safety tripwires that pop up long before pixels turn into in-person risk.
If you’re already married and wondering what daily life on the other side can look like, skim this brutally honest review of being married to someone with a porn addiction. And if you’re weighing a permanent split, the nuts-and-bolts perspective in this piece on porn addiction and divorce might help you sort through next steps.
Quick Notes That Helped Me
- Talk when you’re calm, not at midnight tears time.
- Keep rules simple. Write them down. Tape them to the fridge if you want.
- One blocker + one accountability buddy beats five apps you don’t use.
- Therapy is worth the hassle. Shop around till the fit feels right.
- Watch triggers like HALT (hungry, angry, lonely, tired). It’s real.
- Join a support group if you feel alone. I used a small online group for partners, and it kept me sane. A free resource that offers stories and guidance is Through the Flame. For another angle, this supportive guide for partners of sex and porn addicts helped me feel